


The Adam and Rick Holiday Special

by Phinmeister



Series: Adam and Rick [7]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Christmas, Gay, M/M, Mistletoe, Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 15:24:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17164466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phinmeister/pseuds/Phinmeister
Summary: Adam and Rick celebrate their first Christmas together. They kiss a lot and give each other the most high quality presents imaginable.





	The Adam and Rick Holiday Special

**Author's Note:**

> I need everyone to know that this is my puppy’s first Christmas  
> Ok on with the story

There were few holidays that Rick Young liked more than Christmas.

...Actually, that wasn't quite true. There were barely any at all. There was his birthday, of course, and maybe Halloween, but other than that there was nothing at all. Christmas was great. Christmas was awesome. Christmas was fun as heck.

And now it was even better. This Christmas he had the extreme bonus of having a boyfriend to share it with: Adam. Adam was bound to like Christmas as much as he did; how could he not? They were incredibly similar people, after all, and he wasn't so miserable with the world that he couldn't enjoy Christmas.

Heck, even if he didn't Rick would make him. And it would be harsh.

It was just a normal morning in the midst of December, the last hurrah before the hurricane of joy. Rick was awake, but Adam was still sleeping, his eyes shut tight and his face smashed against his pillow. Rick watched him with fascination for a bit before he poked his forehead. Adam wrinkled his nose.

"What?" he mumbled.

"Wake up," said Rick. "I'm bored."

"You wake up," Adam said, and he rolled over to smash his face even more into his pillow.

"I did. And now you need to join me."

"No."

"But Aaadam, I want to get Christmas stuff." Their house was much too bare for his liking. Christmas songs were already being played on the radio practically 24/7, and all the shops in the world were oversaturated with the holiday, so why were they not partaking in it yet?

"So? Wake me up when it's actually Christmas."

"Uh uh." He poked him again, harder. "Rise and shine, it's almost ten."

Adam gave a sigh of resentment and opened his eyes, and then leaned over to poke Rick hard on the nose. Rick jerked.

"Ow."

"You deserve it," said Adam, and he shut his eyes again. "Sleep."

"That's not very Christmas-y of you."

"It's not even Christmas yet."

"Almost."

"Ugh, all right." He opened his eyes again and sat up, and yawned. "We better do something fun today."

"Fun?"

"Yes, fun. The opposite of boring." He looked at Rick. "And not what you're thinking."

Rick frowned. "Aw."

\--

After much begging by Rick and halfhearted negating by Adam which eventually turned to OK’s, they set out to buy a Christmas tree, and that wouldn't have been a struggle at all if they could have easily found a place to buy one. Unfortunately, as luck would have it, they didn't.

"I don't know where you can even buy Christmas trees here," said Adam. "I usually go to my parents’ house because I’m too lonely to be by myself.”

“But now you’ve got me, right?” Rick grinned at him.

Adam smiled back. “Yeah, I do. So we’re doing things different, huh?”

“I guess. We don’t have to break tradition too much.”

After a futile search involving them driving around for a while in search of any sign of dead trees in general, they decided to give up. Rick eventually parked the car in front of a (very un-decorated) health foods store, and he looked over at Adam.

"What do we do?"

Adam shook his head. "I don't know."

"Maybe they banned Christmas because everyone has a deep grudge against it or something."

"No, they wouldn't do that. I guess..." He blinked. "I could call Mom, I guess. Ask her what she does."

Rick nodded. "Yeah, do that, she’ll know everything."

"Not everything." Nevertheless, he dialed her number and held the phone up to his ear, staring intently ahead of him.

"Hey, Mom? ... Yeah, we have kind of a weird question. Do you know where you can find Christmas trees around here? Don't laugh! ... Oh. Really? Is that it? ... No, I don't think it's bad, it's just kind of surprising... okay, well thank you. Bye." He hung up the phone.

"What?" said Rick.

"She said the only place she really knows where to get one is downtown. Apparently the Girl Scouts are selling them. Also, she laughed at me."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Because she's mean."

"Or because you're a Christmas-loving nerd?"

Adam jokingly glared at him and Rick laughed.

"I am too, I guess. We really are a true pair."

\--

Thus, they had painstakingly bought a Christmas tree. It was indeed downtown, in front of the largest grocery store. A small group of girls were standing to the side of it with a couple of tables (and in front of a substantial amount of relatively small pine trees), and were chatting amongst themselves in their high pitched voices.

"I don’t like small children," said Rick. "I plan to never have any. Especially girls."

"What do you have against them?" said Adam. He walked up to a smaller cluster of girls standing by a table. "Hello. Got any good trees?"

They looked up at him and gave him automatic identical smiles.

"Sure thing!" said one of them, and she walked up to him. "We have a whole bunch of 'em. What size would you like?"

"Size?" He glanced over at Rick, who shrugged. "I guess a sort of big one. But not too big, you know?"

The girl blinked in confusion before smiling again. "Um, okay. How about seven feet?"

"Seven's good, I think." He looked back at Rick again for confirmation.

"Seven's awesome," he said, and then shivered. "Say, aren't you kids cold? Standing out here for hours, I'd hate it."

"We're used to it," said one of the other girls.

He shook his head in disbelief. "Yeah, I bet you are. Anyway, yes. Seven. Just tall enough, I think. Adam, do you have..."

"What, money?" said Adam. "Think so." He pulled a small amount of bills out of his pocket and flipped through them. "How much?"

"Well, seven feet is thirty," one of the other girls piped up. "But if you buy some Girl Scout cookies..." She reached behind her to the table and grabbed two boxes of cookies, and held them out.

"Absolutely," said Rick, before Adam could say anything.

She smiled at him. "All right. What -"

"Thin Mints. Three boxes."

Adam looked at him with a slight smirk on his face, and Rick gave him a too-pleasing awkward grin.

"Oh, all right," said Adam. "Three boxes of Thin Mints. And a tree. Seven feet."

"Got it, sir. That'll be... wait, let me check."

She reached behind her to grab a calculator off the table. At that moment, a girl who had been standing by another table ran over and stared up at Adam, her eyes wide.

"Are you a celebrity?" one of the girls asked.

Adam raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I’m not.”

The girl immediately looked embarrassed. “Oh… I thought you were, ‘cause, my big sister really likes this guy who sings these reallybadsongs and he looks like you.”

Adam glanced at Rick, who appeared to be slowly dying of holding in laughter.

“Oh, I know who that is!” one of the other girls exclaimed. “Mysister loves him too. She thinks he’sgorgeous.”

The first girl stuck out her tongue. “Bleh!”

Rick turned towards Adam and put his lips against his ear. “I think you’re gorgeous, too,” he whispered.

Adam suddenly felt quite warm in the cold weather. Ignoring Rick, he turned back to the group of girls, who had been giggling amongst themselves. "So. Did you figure out how much it is?"

One of the girls handled the transaction while another walked up to Rick. He looked down upon her, feeling unusually tall.

“Is that your brother?” she asked.

“Do you think he is?” Rick replied.

“I don’t know.”

“He’s like a brother to me.”

“What’s his name?”

“Adam.”

“Is he a celebrity?”

“He is to me.”

"Really?" said another girl. "Can I tell everyone I met a famous person?"

"You can tell them a famous person bought one of your trees and your cookies."

"Awesome."

\--

The next obstacle was to figure out exactly how to get a seven foot tree home. They had the car, of course, but it wasn't exactly built to carry trees.

"There's got to be something up here to attach it," said Adam, looking over the edge at the roof of the car. "Don't all cars have something like that?"

"I don't know," said Rick.

“I thought you were a huge car expert.”

“I’m not a tree expert, though.”He looked at the tree he was carrying, which was leaning against him. "This thing is bigger than me."

"Yes, it is," said Adam. "Breaking news, Rick is not seven feet tall."

"Yeah, funny. You know, I think there is something to put it on there."

"Really? 'Cause I'm not finding it." He looked around again, moving his hand around in an effort to find... well, anything.

"I think I should buy a truck," said Rick. "Then I can be real manly. And I can carry trees without any struggles."

"Too late for that," said Adam. He stepped back. "Well, I can't find anything. What else can we do?"

"I don't know."

Adam stared at the car for a few moments, and then his eyes widened. "Wait. I got an idea."

"What?"

Adam walked back to the group of Girl Scouts, who were still patiently waiting for customers. "Hey, do any of you girls have any ropes?"

\--

So that had been fun. After that, their only motive was to decorate it. Adam, as it turned out, had a rather large abundance of ornaments.

"I think they're in one of the boxes I still haven't unpacked from when I moved in here," he said. "In one of those rooms I never use."

"That's vague," said Rick. "Are you going to make me find it?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

"That doesn't even make any sense -"

"My dear, love makes no sense at all."

Rick shook his head. "Oh, whatever."

He had found it, though - it had been tucked away in a closet under a box of unopened toothpaste containers. He picked up the box, which wasn't exactly light, and brought it back to Adam.

"Did you also put a couple of bricks in here?" he asked. He sat the box down at Adam's feet, and Adam looked down.

"Yes," he said. "I hope you were careful with these."

"Careful enough."

"Good, because they're fragile." He kneeled and picked up one ornament - a shiny red one, so reflective it showed a hint of Adam’s face. "Look, see? Pretty."

"Where did you even get these?" said Rick.

"Mom. She said she doesn't need them, but really I think she just doesn't want me to be all lonely and miserable on Christmas."

“I seem to remember you telling me you were.”

“You got it.”

They had set up the tree right next to the couch (quite sloppily; it was leaning against the wall), and Adam hung the ornament on one of the middle branches.

"Perfect." He looked over at Rick. "C'mon, help."

Rick kneeled down and picked up another ornament. "These are nice. This one's...glass?"

"They're all glass, Rick."

"Well, it's clear glass." He held it up so Adam could see. "Don't want to break this one."

"Nope. Which is why I told you to be careful."

"You sort of yelled at me after the fact, but... whatever."

-

Half an hour later, they had gotten most of the box emptied. Adam was hanging up the remainder of the ornaments and humming to himself, while Rick was lying down on the couch with the small box of Thin Mints.

"I'm glad this tradition didn't drastically change when you moved houses," he said. "You still have Christmas, and you still have Thin Mints. I told you nothing had to change.”

"I like it," said Adam. "I have to say, it's a lot better than last year."

"Why?" Rick already knew the answer.

"Well, last year I didn't do anything, really. I called Mom, and that was about it. I didn't even bother getting a Christmas tree. Or these ornaments."

"So her plan to keep you from getting miserable failed?"

"I guess. But I wasn't really miserable. I was just bored, I guess."

"And lonely?"

"Yep. Which is why I'm lucky I have you." He looked over at him with a smile.

"You're sweet," said Rick. "Want a Thin Mint?"

"Yes."

-

Another twenty minutes later, they had put all the ornaments up and had devoured the first box of Thin Mints. Adam rummaged through the box to find any last ornaments he may have missed.

"I think we got them all," he said. "Or... wait, what's this?"

"What?"

"Not an ornament." He pulled out a large, tangled up bundle of... mistletoe.

"Oh, awesome," said Rick.

"Mistletoe," said Adam, sounding pained and looking at the mistletoe with narrowed eyes. "Where did this even come from?"

"This box, apparently. We should put it up."

"More like we should throw it away."

"Uh uh. You are not getting out of this." He stood up and took the mistletoe, and he looked around the room. "Let's see. We can put some there... and some there... and right up there, probably." He pointed to the doorway.

"Great, now I can never leave the house."

"You're not escaping anything." He pulled a small part of mistletoe away from the bundle and smirked at Adam. "You know what this means."

Adam shook his head. "I have no idea what that means. I'm clueless."

"Then I'll just have to demonstrate, won't I?"

"Just because I don't know doesn't mean I have to figure it out."

"Yes you do. It's the only way you can really learn."

"I don't want to learn." He turned to move away.

"Don't think you can get away from this," Rick said, pulling him closer. "You can't."

Adam frowned at him, but Rick could tell his eyes were sparkling.

"Aw, you're cute." He held the mistletoe above their heads and shook it. "Look, Adam. It's right above us."

"Don't drop it."

"I don't have to. I know a way you can stop me."

Adam sighed. "Oh, whatever."

He leaned in and kissed him; Rick brought down the mistletoe and pressed back hard, and Adam wrinkled his nose and broke off.

"Thanks, Thin Mint Mouth," he said.

"Hey, it's not like you're any better," said Rick. "You had as many as I did."

"You're gross. You don't care about Christmas, you just want kisses from me."

"That's true," said Rick. "But Christmas just gives me a good excuse."

"Sure it does."

-

"How do you think I can attach this? With tape?"

"Probably not."

"Probably yes. I think I'll tape some to the door, just to annoy you."

"I'm going to tape you to the door."

"You'd need a lot of tape for that." Rick laughed. "You're great, Adam. Did I ever tell you?"

"Yes. And you're annoying."

"That's my plan. Anyway, what do you have against mistletoe?"

"Nothing. I just think you're dumb."

"And that's why you're dating me." He walked over and shook the mistletoe above Adam again. "Heyyy."

Adam rolled his eyes and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "This is why."

"Aw. You don't like it?"

"No. This is how you get me to literally kiss you every two seconds."

"Not literally." He shook his head and walked back to the door. "I thought you would like that, anyway."

"Nope. Not at all."

"So why do you do it?" He grabbed a roll of tape that he had set aside and broke off a piece.

"Because you make me."

"No I don't!"

"Yes."

"It's not a commandment of God or anything, you know." He held a small piece of mistletoe near the top of the door (as high up as he could reach) and attached it with tape. "You don't have to do it."

"Well... I don't know." He was hiding a smile and failing to do so.

Rick grinned. "Got you."

-

It was Christmas Eve night and everything was darkened by the denouement of the day.

"We should have put lights on that tree," said Rick.

"I told you I don't have any."

"And I told you that you should buy some."

"Maybe."

"Hmm." He yawned. "Tired."

"Then go to bed."

"Maybe." He stood up and looked at Adam. "Hey, do you believe in Santa Claus?"

Adam laughed. "What?"

"'Cause I do. Totally."

"Are you Santa Claus?"

"Maybe." He frowned. "Never thought about that. I might be. Anyway, I'm off to bed."

Adam stood up. "Me too."

"Aw, you don't have to."

"What am I going to do, sit on the couch doing nothing?" They headed out of the room and down the hallway.

"Wait for Santa Claus."

"You mean, you?"

"Maybe..."

\--

The next morning, it was Christmas, and Rick was overly excited.

"Adam wake up it's Christmas," he almost yelled. Adam stirred.

"That's funny," he said. "I could have sworn it was just Christmas Eve yesterday."

"Oh, you're funny. Wake up, I have something for you."

"I am up. AndIhave something foryou."

"Really?"

"Maybe."

They got out of bed and headed back down the hallway. Rick sat down on the couch and Adam kneeled by the base of the tree.

"See, I put something here," he said, looking down under the tree. "A present for you."

"Really?" said Rick. "Before we have coffee?"

"We don't need coffee, it's Christmas," said Adam. He pulled out a small, badly wrapped box. "Ah ha. Here we go." He stood up and handed the box to Rick, smiling.

"Nice wrapping job," said Rick, taking it.

"Hey, I never got taught how to do that right. You get what you get." He sat down next to him and looked at him expectantly.

"A gift for me," said Rick, slowly unwrapping it. "To me, Rick. From Adam."

"Uh huh."

Rick took off all the wrapping paper and threw it uncaringly on the ground. "A box, huh?"

"Not just the box."

"I like the box." He carefully opened it. "Aw, man. Awesome."

Adam had so graciously given Rick a box of Thin Mints.

"See, I tried to think of what you would like the most," said Adam. "And then I remembered the absolute excitement that you had when you forced me to buy three boxes of these. And here is one of them."

"It's absolutely perfect," said Rick. "I couldn't have asked for anything better." He set the box aside.

"Now, I have something for you."

"You do?"

"You bet. It's in our room, though."

"Then go and get it."

Rick did; he came back holding a present that was as badly wrapped as Adam's, but slightly bigger. "With love from me," he said, and he handed it to him. Adam held it in his hands and gazed at it.

"I'm guessing it's not a sports car," he said.

"Heck no, in your dreams," said Rick.

"And it's not a framed original Van Gogh painting."

"Too expensive, sorry."

"And it's not a cooler boyfriend."

"No - hey."

Adam laughed and began tearing off the wrapping paper. "Maybe it's a guide on how to wrap presents better."

"I think you did pretty well with mine, actually."

"Sure you did. And I see you got me another box."

"Sure did."

Adam opened the box and immediately rolled his eyes.

"Is this my sweater?"

"No, it's not your sweater. It's my sweater, that I'm giving to you."

"How thoughtful. Did it used to be mine?"

"Um, yes."

"I can tell."

Rick had given Adam a quite ugly beige sweater with a brown pattern on it. It was one that Adam had given to him - no, forced upon him - very early in their relationship.

"There was a reason I gave this to you, you know."

"So you could have an amazing Christmas present? I know, I know. But hey, I have one myself." He got up and ran back to their room.

Adam looked at the sweater with a look of deep resentment on his face. "You again," he said to it.

Rick came back, now holding a green sweater that was quite as horrible as Adam's.

"Now we can match," he said. "Sort of. Stupid sweaters for stupid boyfriends."

"We're not that stupid," said Adam. "Well, maybe you are. But you realize if we wear these we'll have to go out in public with them?"

"I do realize. Do you realize how many people will be jealous of our style?"

"None?"

"Everyone. Here, put it on."

Begrudgingly, Adam pulled the sweater over his head, and Rick did the same with his.

"I'm surprised this still fits me," said Adam. "I haven't worn this in, like, five years. Or more." He looked at Rick and laughed.

"You look dashing."

"I know," said Rick. He swept his hair back and exhaled loudly.

"Is that another one of my sweaters?"

"Yes. You sure own a lot of them."

"You can have them all."

Rick poked him. "Except that one."

"Ugh. Sure."

\--

They ended up taking the sweaters off, as it turned out that they were both outstandingly itchy. Rick promised, though, that he would get them back in the sweaters if it were the last thing he ever did. At about four o'clock, they decided to throw their own mini-party. It would just be them, of course, although they were all they really needed.

"I have an idea," said Adam. "I have a guitar." He indicated a closet nearby where he kept his acoustic guitar. "I have musical talent, I think. You have ears."

"Do you know any Christmas music?" said Rick, who sounded more than approving of that idea.

"Think so." Adam walked over to the closet, retrieved his guitar, and gazed down at it. "I know some. Or I used to."

"You say that about all your music." Rick sat down at the couch opposite and watched him.

"So I do." He rested his hands on the guitar frets and strummed a low chord, unsure. The strings made a low, melodic noise and he smiled.

"All right," he said. "Presenting me, Adam, to an audience of you, Rick. Playing songs such as... I don't know, what do you like?"

“No idea.”

"Hm." He looked down at the guitar again. "I know Walking in a Winter Wonderland. Do you like that one?"

"It's my favorite," said Rick. His eyes were glued on him, and would probably remain so.

Adam looked at him. "Really?"

"No. But when you play it it is."

"Aw." He shifted slightly and strummed a couple chords. "Sleigh bells ring... are you listening..." He stopped. "I don't know any other words."

"Something about snow," said Rick. "It's okay, just play it."

"All right." He began playing the song again, this time continuing without singing the lyrics. Rick lied down on the couch and gazed up at him.

"Something about a snowman," said Adam. "You know, I never really pay attention to words in a song."

"Me neither," said Rick.

"Wow, another thing we have in common." He continued playing the song. "I don't remember ever learning this."

"You're good."

"Thanks. I’m mostly making this up, you know."

“Fine with me.”

Adam hummed. "Walking in a winter wonderland..."

"You should cover this song."

"Maybe I will."

There was something Rick really liked about Adam's guitar playing. Maybe it was the way he made it all seem to flow. Maybe it was the way in which he made everything seem musical and, well, happy. Maybe it was just the fact that it was Adam in general. Whatever it was, he didn't really want him to stop.

He did stop, though, and he looked over at Rick.

"Any other requests?"

"Anything," said Rick.

"I know Jingle Bells." He turned back to the guitar and began raucously playing that. "Dashing through the snow, in a one horse open sleigh, over the fields we go, laughing all the way HA HA HA." He finished with a very loud and dissonant chord.

"Okay, enough with that," said Rick.

"You said anything," said Adam. He paused for a moment, and then started playing a soft and flowing piece of music.

"What's that?"

He stopped. "Just something random.”

“Well, keep playing it.”

Adam nodded and started playing the song again.

“Hm hm hmmm… it’s Christmas… got my boyfriend heeeeere… his name’s Rick…”

“Ooh, I love the lyrics.”

“He really loves mistletooooe…”

“I sure do.”

He stopped the song and started playing something that sounded more at home on a banjo. When he spoke, his voice had a terrible impression of a Southern twang.

“Well folks, this here’s the story about my boyfriend Rick Young. You see, a long, long time ago, I told him to ravage me on Christmas Eve, and believe me, he did –”

“Oh my God, stop.”

Adam did stop, only because he was shaking with laughter.

Rick shook his head. “You’re so weird.”

“You’re so hot.”

“What’s this? You want to go under that mistletoe?”

Adam set his guitar on the ground. “Maybe.”

Rick stood up and walked over to him, reached over to cup his cheeks in his palms, and kissed him. Adam closed his eyes and hummed.

“Like that,” he murmured once they broke off.

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“That wasn’t even under mistletoe.”

“Doesn’t have to be.”

\--

It was dark again, and Adam and Rick were once again lying next to each other on the couch by their tree.

"I think I can say that this was a good Christmas," said Rick, staring up at the ceiling. "I got some Thin Mints. And you got a sweater."

"That I already had?" said Adam. He traced a line with his finger down Rick's arm.

"That I gave to you. As a wonderful gift."                           

"Oh."

"Are you gonna wear it?"

"Maybe. If you say so."

Rick broke his gaze from the ceiling and looked over at the door. "You know, if we walk out again you'll have to kiss me."

"Are you going to take that down any time soon?"

"Probably not."

"What if it dies?"

"Then we'll just have to get a new one." He leaned over and kissed Adam's cheek.

"What about all the other mistletoe?"

"Where?"

Adam rolled his eyes and pointed at various spots around the room. "There. And there. And there. And you put some over ourbed, remember?"

"No."

"Liar."

Rick paused. "I can take it down if you want."

"You don't have to."

"Well, we'll have to get sick of kissing each other eventually."

Adam laughed quietly. "Nope."

"Maybe not. But if I keep the mistletoe up we might."

"Probably not."

"Yeah, probably not." He sighed and looked over at the door again. "We didn't go sledding."

Adam laughed again. "Were we supposed to go sledding?"

"No. But we could have."

"Maybe if it snowed a couple more feet."

"Yeah. Maybe in January we will."

"It's a deal." Adam closed his eyes and rested his head against Rick's arm. He hummed softly.

"Are you tired?" said Rick.

"Content."

"You're squishing me."

"Good."

"Don't leave."

"All right." He shifted over and pressed his lips to Rick's neck. "Kisses."

"I thought you were against those."

"Not really."

"You were."

"Not really. Be quiet."

"Okay."

Adam shifted over again and wrapped his arm around Rick. "Do we have to get up?" he murmured.

"Eventually."

"Right now?"

"Maybe not. We fell asleep here before, didn't we?"

"Yeah."

"We can do it again, I guess."

"Good." He kissed his neck again. "Merry Christmas, Rick."

"Merry Christmas, Adam." 


End file.
